


We Wish You A Happy Something

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, obligatory christmas fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 10:58:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13145241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Madara has detested Christmas since he was fairly young, just not for any reason that he cares to broadcast. This year something special happens that just might endear him to the season a little more.





	We Wish You A Happy Something

From the very second he had stepped inside the well-lit Senju household his mood had plummeted even lower than it had been for the entire week leading up to this. Everything in here was covered in disgustingly festive red and green patterns, tacky fake snow, and seizure inducing flickering lights. Madara held his arms close to his body as he carefully picked his way down the hall, trying not to touch anything lest the fabled ‘spirit of Christmas’ rub off on him.

This was, without a doubt, his least favorite time of year. Usually he got away with holing up inside his rather spacious midtown apartment, reading books and staying snuggled up in bed until evening had come again, pretending it was just any other day off work. Not this year, though. This year Hashirama had told him in no uncertain terms that he was expected to arrive at this house the night before so he could wake up with the Senju family for Christmas morning. Apparently his friend had even contacted Izuna and his brother would be arriving with Touka in the morning as well. Terrible. If this got any more cloying and Christmas-y Madara was likely to set fire to whatever was closest to him.

Stepping in to the den, he sneered at the perfectly made up tree in the corner. It could have been plucked straight out of a catalogue; a sure sign, if any, that Hashirama had had no part in the decorating process. Presents filled the space beneath the lower branches of the large spruce and he cast a critical eye over them all. Hashirama knew damn well how he felt about this particular holiday so he truly hoped that his friend wasn’t expecting him to bring any presents. He hadn’t bought a single Christmas present since he was about fifteen years old and he had no intention of breaking that streak now just because he’d been dragged unwillingly out of his annual seclusion.

“You made it!” a familiar voice crowed from the top of the staircase to his right. Madara scowled as he tilted his head back. Hashirama was thundering down to greet him, Tobirama trailing behind at a much statelier pace.

“Did you think I’d get lost or something?” he growled, stomping by without meeting his friend at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ve only been here a few hundred times.”

“Hey, wait! Wait for me Madara!”

Instead of listening he made his way further down the hall to where he knew he could find what the Senju called their leisure room. The actual living room was mostly for show and for holiday gatherings. The leisure room was where the big TV was mounted on one wall, an antique pool table placed close to another, and it was here that they spent most of their time when Madara came to visit.

Without waiting for permission – they’d been friends so long he was practically family, he hadn’t needed permission in years – Madara turned the television on and began surfing channels until he landed on the first movie he found that wasn’t Christmas themed. Pay-per-view, of course, because he was just grouchy enough to make Hashirama pay for this indignity in any way he could. He heard the two Senju brothers banging around in the kitchen until Mito’s voice chased them both out and they joined him on the enormous sofa to watch his movie.

He didn’t take much special notice when Tobirama got up and started rummaging around in the liquor cabinet beneath the window. They were all adults here and it wasn’t all that out of the ordinary for the younger man to indulge in one or two drinks on occasion. When he hauled out an entire bottle of what appeared to be flavored vodka, however, he suddenly had Madara’s undivided attention. Something else was pulled out of the cabinet as well but it stayed hidden within his hand as he wandered over to the television and began to fiddle with the pointless artsy wall decoration hung just over top. Disturbingly, Hashirama began to clap his hands like a child.

“Yay! Starting early!”

“I feel as though I’m going to regret asking this,” Madara said slowly, “but what is starting early and what exactly does he intend to do with that much alcohol?”

“Christmas tradition!” Hashirama scrambled off the couch and nearly dove headfirst inside his own cabinetry, coming out with a tall bottle of whiskey that he toted back with him to the spot he’d just vacated.

“The movie hat game,” Tobirama clarified as he resettled himself farther down the couch. “Happens every year at Christmas. You hang a small hat above the television so that it dangles just within the screen. Every time it lines up so that one of the characters on screen look like they’re wearing it, you take a drink.”

“We usually play with Christmas movies but this one works too!” Hashirama was unscrewing the top of his whiskey already, pouring it in to a glass that Madara hadn’t even noticed him procuring.

“Care to join in, Uchiha?”

Tobirama sat forward again just far enough to raise one thin eyebrow down the way at him mockingly. Madara scowled and crossed his arms.

“No, I believe I would rather keep my dignity intact, thank you.”

“Suit yourself.”

Four hours later and partway in to the third movie Madara was extraordinarily grateful that he had decided to abstain. Just observing the two idiots next to him was more entertainment than the movies, distracting him well enough so he didn’t even mind that the third film was actually a Christmas-themed one. Mito had brought dinner in to them all, resigned look on her face when she spotted the open bottles, but it seemed even having food in their bellies wasn’t enough to combat the incredible rate at which the two brothers were consuming their drinks.

Watching Tobirama slide farther and farther down in his seat like his body was slowly liquefying without him noticing was quite the experience. The younger man was typically a fairly stiff and proper person, or at least he seemed so whenever Madara was around, and seeing him so loose and uninhibited was a big change. By halfway through the second movie he’d begun to cheer obnoxiously along with his sibling every time one of them spotted that stupid hat he had hung up aligning perfectly with a character’s head. Then the two of them would pour themselves another shot, both of them tossing it back like old pros. Madara had never even seen Hashirama take a shot before, let alone his stiff-necked baby brother.

He had seen Hashirama drunk by other methods, however, so it was no surprise to him when the only thing which changed about his friend’s behavior was that he lost all control of his volume and by the end of the night he was communicating only in slurred shouts. Tobirama’s transformation was more fantastic – as well as more unexpected. After the first few shots he never seemed to stop smiling and he appeared to have been attacked by a case of the giggles.

As typical of drunk people, neither of them were very aware of their own limbs after a while and Madara was dodging wild gestures long before Hashirama finally gave in and allowed Mito to lead him to bed. He was left alone with Tobirama, who couldn’t seem to stay upright in his seat, wondering for the hundredth time why he had let himself get bullied in to coming here tonight. He hated Christmas, wanted absolutely nothing to do with it, and for the past few months he had hated coming over to his friend’s house for another reason as well. Here was where he would run in to Tobirama and find himself in awkward situations like this one.

It wasn’t as though he hated the younger man, just that he had no idea how to communicate with him now that his heart had developed the habit of trying to leap in to his throat every time they were within ten feet of each other.

“What…what time’s’it?” Tobirama slurred. Madara shook off his stupor and glanced over at the fancy clock hung up across the room.

“Just passed midnight,” he grumbled. It had officially been Christmas day for a whole nine minutes so far. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo. To his surprise, Tobirama slumped down a little further and looked dejected.

“Aw, I missed it then. Oops.”

“Missed what?”

Tobirama squirmed around but never managed to sit up properly so he gave in, look up at his house guest with a sheepish smile as he said, “I didn’t get a chance to say happy birthday. M’sorry.”

Madara gaped at him, jaw nearly coming unhinged in his shock. If he’d had to guess he wouldn’t have thought Tobirama was even aware that his birthday was the twenty-fourth of December and he certainly wouldn’t have expected him to care enough to give him well wishes for the day. No one had so much as wished him a happy birthday in years, getting caught up in the holiday spirit instead, and over time it had fostered a hatred  for the season in him as he felt more and more ignored, unappreciated, and unimportant.

“Thank you.” It was all he managed to choke out, although he wanted to ask how the hell Tobirama had even known. The younger man smiled goofily.

“D’you want your present?”

“You got me a _present_? A…a birthday present? Not a Christmas one that’s just been repurposed at the last minute?”

“Mhm.” Nodding enthusiastically, Tobirama began the struggle to sit up again. Madara watched him in shock for a moment before realizing that maybe he should help a bit. Once his companion was upright he bolted off the couch with more energy than Madara had seen him do anything that wasn’t related to his beloved science. “C’mon!”

Curious and still reeling a little from the shock, Madara followed as he was bidden. He flicked the television off as he passed and trailed behind with his hands at the ready to catch his stumbling guide while they made their way down the hall, up the stairs, and in to a bedroom he’d never had occasion to go in to before. He’d certainly spent some time wondering about it though. Tobirama’s room was as obsessively neat as he would have expected it to be, although there were less books than he would have thought. Actually it was a bit sparse inside, almost giving him the impression of a guest bedroom but for the very few personal touches here and there.

Tobirama led him to a closet and opened it to reveal the top shelf that had been largely taken over by a good sized heap of gifts all wrapped in different papers and boxes.

“D’you just want this year’s present?” the younger man asked him in a confused slur. “Or do you want…like…all of them?”

“All of them?” Madara breathed. Tobirama smiled widely at him over one shoulder.

“I buy you birthday presents every year but you never come over so I can’t give them to you. Going over to your house to deliver them would be _weird_ ; I don’t want you to think I’m _weird_. Well…you already do but I mean, you know, more than that.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled faintly, feeling like he might fall over from the shock. “Can I open all of them?”

“Sure!”

He had to stop Tobirama from just sweeping them all on to the floor with his arms, unsure if there was anything delicate or breakable in any of the packages. Instead they brought them down one or two at a time and piled them on the floor so they could both sit down as well. Looking them over, Madara noted that all of the wrapping paper was distinctly birthday themed, covered with balloons and cakes with not a single holiday pattern to be found, and it touched a place inside him that he had tried so hard to close away from himself.

Something else he noted was the tags. Flipping them all over with care, one by one, he could easily tell which present had been for which year by the little messages written on them. _Happy 23 rd Birthday, Madara_ read the one by his foot. By his knee there was one which read _Happy 26 th Birthday, Madara_. Nothing wild or personal of course, that wasn’t Tobirama’s style, but it was more care than anyone had shown for Madara’s special day since he was a child and his family had collectively decided that he would be getting combo presents meant to celebrate both Christmas and his birthday at the same time.

Which he’d always found incredibly unfair. Everyone else got separate presents for the two different occasions. Why should he get treated any different just because of an accident of birth?  

Fingers gently ran over each and every package as Madara looked over his tiny hoard. He felt like if he spoke right at that moment he might crack open and spill some embarrassing parts of himself out over the carpet so he simply kept quiet and poked around until he found the gift meant for this year. Multicolored party hats adorned the midsized box and even though the pattern was cheesy he found he didn’t want to rip something so obscurely precious. He did want the present, though, so he did it anyway.

Inside there was a leather case with no outward clue as to what it contained. Undoing the clasps, he lifted the lid and nearly started to cry. Since when did Tobirama, of all people, know him so well? He wasn’t even sure even Hashirama would remember his obsession with ancient weaponry enough to buy him such an amazing gift. The old style blade – a kunai, his mind supplied automatically – was perfectly preserved and intricately carved. It was crafted all out of one solid piece of metal with strips of cloth around the handle to make the grip more comfortable and from just a single glance he could tell how expensive this must have been. He’d been looking for a kunai to add to his collection for a long time and never come across a piece he could afford.

Glancing up, he saw the casual way Tobirama was sprawled out next to him. He looked utterly relaxed, as though his gift wasn’t the single most meaningful one Madara had ever received, probably too drunk to realize what this revealed about him. A gift like this meant that he paid attention to Madara enough to know just what to get him that would be appreciated; it meant that he knew Madara much better than their slightly distant way of tip toeing around each other would have made one assume.

“It’s incredible.” Madara traced the edges of the setting the blade was held in, not touching it with his bare fingers. He never touched any of his collection with bare skin. “Where did you find this?”

“Kirigakure.” His head snapped around to stare at the younger man with both eyebrows shooting upwards, but Tobirama only shrugged. “I know, right? That particular style of blade wouldn’t have been used by their early civilizations so it must have been brought over by some explorers or traded in a war or something. Cool right? I saw it and I remembered you telling Hashi about the one you’d wanted to buy that you found in Suna and I thought…why not?”

“This must have cost you a fortune,” Madara said quietly. Since when did anyone other than him know anything about the history of weaponry? Everyone else always seemed so bored when he tried to talk about his collection. Tobirama shrugged and said nothing. “No don’t shrug. It’s not – this isn’t – this _means_ something.”

“Okay fiiiine.” With a groan Tobirama rolled his eyes and crawled over to resettle himself at Madara’s side, throwing one arm around his shoulders and placed one finger against his own lips. “Just don’t tell yourself okay? You can’t know The Secret.”

“Secret? What secret?”

“No! You’re not supposed to know!”

Madara took a deep breath, looked towards the ceiling for patience, and assumed a very serious expression. “I promise I won’t tell myself.”

Tobirama looked at him for a moment, then beamed sloppily. “Good! ‘Cause you’re pretty smart so you’d probably figure out that me buying you presents all the time is a pretty big clue that I’m in love with you.”

Freezing in place, Madara blinked twice and surreptitiously pinched himself just to make sure he was actually still awake. When it became clear that he wasn’t dreaming and that Tobirama had indeed just drunkenly mumbled what Madara thought he had, time seemed to pause for just a few moments as the entire universe shifted on its axis. He looked around at all the presents piled in front of him and wondered how the hell he could have missed something like that for as long as he did. He himself had only started to notice the man at his side in that way over the last few months. If the presents were supposed to be his clue, it was clear that Tobirama had looked at him in this manner for quite a long time.

“Can I open the rest of them?” he asked faintly for lack of anything else to say, not ready to deal with the feelings crashing around inside his chest. Tobirama nodded and dropped the arm from around his shoulders so he could crawl forward to grab one for the birthday boy.

Just as this year’s had been, each present turned out to be incredibly thoughtful. With them all conveniently labeled to show the year they had been meant for, he was able to match them all up with interests he had indulged in in the past that would have made them excellent gifts at the time. His twenty-fourth birthday present was a model of the main character from his favorite new TV show that year. His twenty-fifth was a watch with a simple congratulatory message engraved on the back which would have celebrated him getting hired at his dream job.

As he unwrapped more and more gifts, Madara actually felt himself getting a little misty-eyed to his own mortification. Not wanting the other to see such a blatant display of emotion, he kept his head down and his eyes on whatever he was opening or admiring at the time. Because of that he failed to see how tired his companion was getting, the alcohol and the late hour both taking their toll until at last he dropped his head on to Madara’s shoulder with a content little sigh of exhaustion.

“Are…you okay?” Madara asked.

“Tired,” the other mumbled shortly in to his collar. Madara smiled.

“Let’s get you in to bed then. You should change first, though. Where’s your pajamas? Lots of presents in your closet but I don’t see many clothes.”

“Course not, they’re in my suitcase.” Tobirama waved a vague hand over at the corner of the room and when Madara looked he did indeed spot a suitcase laying there with the top flipped open.

“Why do you have a suitcase? Don’t you live here?”

“No. Haven’t lived here since I was nineteen.”

Deciding that he couldn’t concentrate on all these revelations and convince the sleepy drunk to change at the same time, Madara said a mental ‘oh fuck it’ and hauled Tobirama over towards the bed in the clothes he was wearing. Every time he was here Tobirama was as well, lounging around, sometimes joining the conversation and sometimes not. It was only natural to assume he lived here since he never seemed to leave.

Once the younger man had been plunked down on top of the covers and he was weakly wriggling around, trying to pull them over himself, Madara looked at him with a curious expression.

“If you live on your own how come you’re always over here, then?” he asked. Giving a quiet huff of triumph as he finally managed to sausage himself in the top cover on the bed, Tobirama closed his eyes and nuzzled the pillow.

“My apartment’s lonely,” he mumbled sleepily. “There’s no one there. I don’t like it.”

Madara swallowed thickly. “Ah. I see.” And he really could, in a way. His own apartment seemed to echo some days in a way that really brought home how lonely his life was. Hashirama was practically his only friend and on the days neither he nor Izuna was available, there wasn’t much for Madara to do but sit at home and entertain himself.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, pitching his voice low. Tobirama hummed and didn’t answer. Madara made a quick trip to the bathroom to grab a cup of water and a couple of aspirin then returned to lay them on the small table next to Tobirama’s bed. The pale man wasn’t quite asleep yet but it looked like he was ready to drop off any moment. After observing him for a few seconds, Madara made a spur of the moment decision and crawled on to the bed next to him, slipping under the sheets and laying his arm around the other’s waist.

“Hng?” The sound his bedmate made wasn’t really a word but it had a questioning note so Madara answered it anyway in a low whisper.

“Can I sleep in here tonight?”

“You wanna trade beds?” Tobirama asked in a sleepy murmur. It was a surprisingly innocent assumption, delivered in a more adorable voice than many would assume him capable of.

“No, I’d like to stay here with you if you don’t mind.”

“Like a sleepover?”

“Sure. Yeah. Like a sleepover.”

“That sounds nice.” Tobirama yawned and squirmed back to rest more closely against him. “You’re warm.”

Madara didn’t say anything to that but he didn’t need to. A moment later his companion had fallen asleep and he was left shaking his head in wonder. It was amazing what a little (or a lot of) alcohol could do to change the way someone acted, revealing secrets that had evidently been well-hidden for years.

Although he was almost unable to believe he was doing so, Madara found himself for the first time in his life blessing the existence of Christmas traditions. If Tobirama hadn’t been drinking, who knew if he would have revealed the secret stash of presents he’d apparently never had the courage to deliver to their recipient? All week he’d been dreading tonight and tomorrow morning when he would be surrounded by Christmas cheerfulness as his birthday was ignored for yet another year. Instead he’d gotten the best birthday gift he could have possibly imagined – and he wasn’t referring to the actual presents themselves.

Despite not having consumed any drinks himself, Madara was also fairly ready to sleep. Getting to do so with his arms around the man he had a massive crush on was an extra bonus he hadn’t anticipated but he certainly wasn’t going to complain about it. No reason to look a gift horse in the mouth.

In the morning both of the Senju brothers would probably regret drinking so much. Opening all those gifts under the tree was probably going to be a quieter affair than he’d would have expected considering how hungover they were both likely to be. Likely he and Mito would spend most of the morning shaking their heads and looking smug – though he thought he probably had more reason to be smug than her, all things considered.

Before he dropped off to sleep Madara wondered if Tobirama would remember any of this when he woke up or if he would awaken on Christmas morning to find the man he was in love with ‘somehow’ in his bed. A holiday miracle indeed. Either way the morning promised to be surprisingly fun.

Maybe – _maybe_ – Madara could be talked around to getting in to the Christmas spirit after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like Madara would share my bitterness about that combo present bullshit. -.-


End file.
